


A Happier Afternoon

by lunadiane



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Character Study, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-12
Updated: 2020-02-12
Packaged: 2021-02-28 07:19:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22680103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunadiane/pseuds/lunadiane
Summary: Felix has a companion over for tea.A short exploration of Felix Graham de Vanily.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 39





	A Happier Afternoon

Felix sank into the plush armchair as he leaned his entire weight into it, a porcelain cup of tea in one hand and matching gold-rimmed saucer in the other. Before him, a teapot and accompanying cake stand stood on the blue-covered table.

The pastry assortment consisted of petit fours, eclairs, macarons and French-style sandwiches, instead of the usual scones, cakes and English sandwiches he was used to. They were currently in _Paris_ , after all, and although the hands of the grandfather clock read fifteen to five thanks to French schooling hours, it didn’t mean he had to go without his afternoon tea. Now that he had returned to the comfort of his and his mother’s residence, he could also drop the French and converse easier in English.

Felix sipped the steaming hot tea and made a face.

“No milk or sugar? That’s unusual.” His teatime company remarked with amusement. “You never take your tea without them.”

The tea scalded his tongue and he frowned at the bitterness. “I wanted to take my tea _your_ way just this once, to see why you like it. Can’t say I see the appeal.”

The man seated in the armchair across him laughed. “That’s because you didn’t take your time, my boy. Take a breath of the tea before you sip it, make sure you actually sip it, not just take a mouthful – and roll it around your mouth. Bathe your tongue in it and breathe. The scent is half the experience.”

Felix nodded. He carefully inhaled the scent of black tea – which smelled wonderfully of roses, as was its namesake, took another sip and did as he was instructed to, quietly savouring the dark liquid.

He swallowed after a few moments. “There’s hints of…something sweet. Vanilla?” Felix wondered. “And a rose aftertaste.”

The man smiled. “Bain de Rose. Nothing beats a good Earl Grey, though.”

“Of course.” Felix agreed, taking a third sip. “However…in Rome, drink as the Romans drink.”

Felix set his cup back on the table, saucer beneath it, and leaned forward to pluck a brown-coloured macaron, all of the biscuits chocolate except for two mint ones. “And pick your favourites of their local cuisine.” The man continued, his brown eyes crinkling in mirth as he chuckled.

“Mother doesn’t fancy macarons that much anyway.” Felix defended as his companion exclaimed in mock outrage.

“Just because we’re away from our cooks doesn’t mean you can eat anything you want!”

“Really? I thought that was the opposite.” Felix teased, grabbing another macaron and popping it into his mouth.

“I see your mother is spoiling you as usual.”

“No, not really.” Felix smirked. “But she’s been so busy lately, there’s simply no time for her to think about trivial matters. I just decided to step in regarding the menu.” He shrugged helplessly, holding his palms up.

“Rascal.”

A comfortable few seconds of silence passed. Felix drank his tea before reaching for the sugar bowl, metal clinking as he dropped two cubes in with tongs and stirred using the accompanying teaspoon. “What?” He replied to the man’s reproachful look. “I can’t taste anything after eating macarons. The French are impeccable with their sweets.”

“You’re lucky your mother isn’t back yet.”

A second cup, saucer and spoon sat next to the teapot, empty and untouched.

“Speaking of, how is she?”

“She’s fine.” Felix quickly said, drinking his tea. Now it actually tasted sweet, which was to say, good. “She’s got another project, the rings, so of course she’s happier. It takes her mind off…you know.” A lump formed in his throat, which Felix hurriedly swallowed with another gulp of tea.

Kind brown eyes softened as he curled his fingers together on the table, leaning in. “That’s good to hear. I think the change in scenery is really doing her good. She has the French film scene to explore.”

“Exactly what I thought.” Felix nodded.

“What has she discovered?” He asked.

“Mostly shooting locations.” Felix answered. “French architecture’s distinct from London, and she likes to take day trips into other provinces.” He picked up his phone lying on the table and swiped it, opening an image of a quaint cottage in the afternoon sunlight decorated with bright flowerbushes. “From Roussillon. It looks exactly like the ones you find in the English countryside,” He scoffed, “so I don’t know what she was raving about.”

“Don’t let her catch you saying that.” The man smiled.

“ _It’s about the atmosphere, love!_ ” Felix mimicked in a high-pitched voice. “ _The French sun is simply better, no dreary English clouds and rain!_ Why can’t she just wait for summer? It’s not like England doesn’t have blue skies.” 

His companion chuckled. “You know your mother is biased toward her home country.”

“Too biased. Meanwhile,” Felix went on, “I think I’ve found a future costume designer.”

“Really?” The man’s eyes twinkled. “Is that where you’ve gotten your ensemble from?”

Unlike the mourning grey and black he’d worn all of the past year, he was now wearing grey – and predominantly white. A white top hat was perched on his head, a pair of grey vulpine ears protruding from it. He stood and proudly spread out his arms, rotating his wrists theatrically to display his grey-gloved hands and the crisp white fabric of his pants and jacket sleeves. Beneath the jacket was a bright orange vest, gold chain hanging from the pocket, and a grey undershirt. A grey domino mask covered his eyes.

“Worthy of Savile Row, isn’t it?” The boy preened.

“A fox magician?” The man murmured, impressed, eyes tracing the tailored garments. “A bit heavy on the symbolism, don’t you think?”

“I think the symbolism’s perfect. Magic tricks are lies the audience willingly believes, after all.” Felix said. “Besides, what else is best suited to pull rabbits from their hiding places?”

“Was this made by your new costumer talent?”

Felix’s lips curled into a smirk. “It wasn’t, but I would _love_ to see her take on it. She is-”

Outside, the door pushed open. “Felix, I’m home!” came a feminine voice, together with the echoing click-clack of heels.

His green eyes widened. Abruptly, Felix pushed his armchair back with an ugly screech. The man darted out of his own seat to stride closer, moving with his arms outstretched. 

Felix flung his arms around him.

_“Father.”_

At his touch, his father, dark-haired, brown-eyed, clad in his signature white shirt and blue vest, vanished into nothing.

The rustling of paper and plastic sounded from outside. She was obviously setting her purchases down on the counter. For a few moments, Felix stared into the empty space.

“Trixx, hide.” His transformation immediately melted off, leaving him again in grey and black. The fox kwami sprung from the necklace hidden beneath his shirt and zipped into his pocket. The efficacy of the deactivation phrase was one of the reasons he liked this miraculous.

Amelie appeared in the doorway, and he turned to meet her. “Welcome back, Mother.”

There was a healthy flush to her skin and her golden hair slightly mussed from exertion. “I see you’ve started without me.” She said lightly. The smile on her face was playful, but genuine joy and relief exuded from it. For a year, Felix had refused to do anything alone if his mother could be with him. He would wait at school until she came to pick him up, distracted by a book, so that they could go home and take tea together.

She stepped forward to rest her hands on his shoulders, caressing his blond hair. “A year…it’s been a year since he passed.” Amelie murmured, eyes shining. “I suppose we’ve both moving on, aren’t we?”

His chest felt tight.

“Of course, Mother.”


End file.
